The Unbearable Pain of Knowing
by MissJinny
Summary: AU. Oneshot. Post war. Tonks' recollection of the war and a dawning truth that hurts... a lot. Mildly depressing.


a/n: I started this on a whim and finished after leaving it to set after several weeks. It's far more depressing than I expected it to be, but I like nevertheless. I don't think I'm capable of writing a happy, fluffy story.

Disclaimer: Quite obviously I do not own Harry Potter, the series, or any characters. If I did, I'd make sure Snape wasn't a traitor and available for random nibbles at my discretion.

Song Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Blue October, but I strongly recommend it to EVERYONE.

Double pairing involved (not necessarily at the same time.)

.oOo.

**_I have to block out thoughts of you, so I don't loose my head._**

_**They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed.**_

_**Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I'm alone,**_

_**Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home.**_

**_There's a burning in my pride, a nervous bleeding in my brain._**

_**An ounce of peace is all I want for you, will you never call again.**_

_**And will you never say that you love me just to put it in my face.**_

_**And will you never try to reach me, it is I that wanted space.**_

_**Hate me today.**_

**_Hate me tomorrow._**

_**Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you.**_

_**Hate me in ways, yeah ways hard to swallow.**_

_**Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you.**_

.oOo.

It was now five years to the day that the final battle in the war against Voldemort was won. The bloody mess had lasted for nearly eight months. Not much in the length of wars, but far too long for all those wizards and witches that fought--and who's families could only watch as their loved ones died valiantly.

A great monument was erected in the center square of Diagon Alley. The name of every hero and heroine was carved in richly detailed letters. As a wand tip touched a particular name, an all too brief epitaph was stated by a soothing witch's voice. The war budget had been thin, and reparations were costly. Most people didn't mind the granite reminder, not so extravagant to be gaudy, and not so simple it was dull and unfitting.

Nymphadora Tonks stood under the creaking sign of Flourish and Botts--the large windows long since repaired and new bricks just rich enough in color to stick out against the old. She watched with sad eyes and grim mouth as Remus Lupin stood entirely still in front of the monument. As the years passed most people didn't bother to return and praise the fallen. It was depressing and highly disturbing that the hell and horror that plagued all of wizard-kind for decades was forgotten so easily once the threat was gone. It angered the werewolf before her, and though she would rather be beside him to offer her support, she knew he would refuse it and that he preferred to remember alone.

The lycan's unsteady hand rose finally from his side and he brushed his fingertips across the stone at eye level. Tonks knew that young Neville Longbottom's name was there, and beside it Blaise Zambini. The youngest deaths were hardest on Remus. On the bad drunken nights following the war's end, the werewolf had sputtered about the enormity of how unfair the gods had been to take the children with so much left to give and leave him, a broken, useless old wolf.

The waiver of his fingers grew and he bent at the waist, pressing his palm flat across the smooth surface--as though covering the name would render it moot and somehow it would no longer be there and the man would be alive again. Sirius Black was there, she knew.

It took the young Harry Potter--eyes glazed and body hardened beyond his years--to threaten the Ministry. He had put the fear of The Man who Defeated Voldemort into those of power. His Godfather's name had been cleared and etched into the granite as Harry wanted and any names the young man brought to them after was added without comment.

Even at her distance, Tonks heard the man suck in a hard breath as he fought his emotion. Her stomach clenched and her heart wrenched. Finally, Remus knelt in the earth and touched the stone. Even after all of these years she had not discovered which name meant so much to her-- friend? Lover? Remus always doubled over in her view and she could not tell where his fingers landed. Whoever was scribed there, written forever in stone at the bottom of the pillar, was someone the man never spoke of. She didn't even know if it was a man or a woman. Her heart and her head told her not to search and nose about. It would only cause her hurt in the end, and probably more for Remus as well.

Remus stood with creaking knees, staring toward the ground and the unknown name. Another ten minutes the wizard stared at the slab of stone before he turned dejectedly away and walked back toward the one who waited so patiently for him.

"Home then?" Tonks asked quietly, absently taking him by the elbow and threading her arm through. Remus nodded, watching his feet move and unable to speak. The pixie faced woman bit her lip, "Do you want to eat before tonight?"

The man blinked his honey eyes and thought before shaking his head. The first full moon of the month fell this night. He should probably eat something for strength sake, but he had no appetite.

"Alright," Tonks whispered, leading the broken hearted wolf home again.

Remus had not eaten as he said he wouldn't. They sat in horribly tense silence as night drew in. Remus stumbled into the basement, stripping his clothes as he went and sat down heavily into the corner. His eyes trained on the high window, barred heavily and silver-flaked. Tonks nervously drew the door to the cage shut and locked it. All bars were silver and thick iron manacles hung from the wall over Remus' head. He hadn't needed them much. She doubted he'd need them tonight.

"I'm sorry, Remus," She whispered with her hands curled around the bars. He slowly turned his head on his shoulders, eyes looking glazed already. "They're trying. Harry tells me that Hermione is getting close."

The lycan looked away and grunted softly. Wolfsbane had not been brewed for the werewolf for nearly six years, it hardly mattered to him now. He had forgotten what it was like to stay in his own mind. Tonks depressingly thought that it didn't matter anyhow, the poor fool couldn't seem to stay in his own mind when he was still human.

"They found some notes," She tried to sound cheerful, failing miserably. "They were in a secured box somewhere in the rubble of Snape's rooms." Remus' ear twitched and Tonks watched as the man stopped breathing for half a second. "They were right where you said they would be," she mumbled.

The sky outside the window was nearing black. With a last sorrowful look, Tonks left Remus to his own devices. Caged and barred as he was. Even the stairs that led back to the first floor were lined in silver. She had refused at first, asking how Remus would react if he fell down them one day and burned to death. On the third turning in the house, she found Remus had busted the door of the cage down and lay asleep at the foot of the stairs the next morning. The heels of his hands and feet were burnt and blistered; the side of his face had the blistered burns of two bars. She let him keep the stairs and didn't argue with him again.

Tonks paused at the top of the stairs, staring down at the slim triangle of light that barely lit Remus' huddled form. She pulled the door shut and locked it as instructed. The moon raised no more than a minute later and from beneath her the sounds of Remus' grunting and moaning in pain were near too much to bear. The sounds of transformation ceased just as she thought she would break into tears and she rubbed at her eyes in relief.

In the darkness of the basement, Remus sat on his haunches and howled. His canine vocals were of mourning, sadness, depression and deep hurt. Upstairs, Tonks sat down heavily onto the floor and wept.

It was nearly an hour later, with silence from the basement, that the woman made her way to the kitchen. She wasn't sure if she preferred tea or something much harder. She would make the decision when she got there.

After she dropped the tea kettle the second time, Tonks decided a glass of sherry might be better. With the bottle in one hand and a juice glass in the other, Tonks made her way to the living room and sat down gingerly on their worn couch. The pictures that lined the mantle were sparse. Harry, Hermoine and Ron graced one of them; waving and smiling tensely, the trio had been nervous. It had been taken the day before the first steps of the war began.

Beside the Golden Trio was a dog-eared and faded photo of Sirius Black at the youthful age of twenty-six. Tonks had found it at the bottom of Remus' dresser drawer. It was apparent that the wolf had carried the picture with him over the many years. It took little convincing for Remus to allow her to put it up. Even now from her distance, she could see the finger smudges on the glass where Remus carried it about with him now and then. The picture itself was one for wonder. Every photo she had seen of Sirius Black had the man grinning like the Cheshire cat, looking every bit the mischief maker he had been. This one was more somber, probably how Remus remembered his friend best. Sirius looked his age, a contented smile on his face--thin-lipped and no teeth in view. He did not move much in his frame except for blinking.

The scrabble of wolf's feet grating at the cement flooring made her pause, but the sound stopped soon enough and she relaxed again. She was not worried for her safety, though Remus had been worried enough for her for nearly a year. She had yet to watch him turn, and Remus refused to allow her to see. She had accepted his vehement objection and never brought the topic up.

…Just as she never brought up the topic of the small attic room.

It had been no more than a tiny stretch of attic where Remus could stand up straight only at the very middle and was forced to stoop low at either side. He had made a den of sorts for himself there.

Tonks had gone up once in search of the lycan. She stumbled on the last step and laughed breathlessly in the dusty air and looked around her in slight surprise. In the little time she had seen the attic when they had first moved in, it was dramatically different. It had a tidy disorder to it that was distinctly Remus. A desk set in front of the small, dirty window with piles of books and boxes of randomness were stacked sporadically around it in an order only Lupin knew. A broken hutch stood at the narrow end of one wall, snugged tightly between the rafters. Its doors had been broken off and bottles of various things set within.

She had just stepped fully inside, curious beyond belief to see what was about up there, when a deep growl shocked her into stillness.

"What are you doing?" Remus breathed deeply, his usually soft, gravely voice was deep and laced in pain and anger.

"Looking for you," Tonks squeaked, for the first time feeling fear in Remus' presence.

"Get out of here," he snarled, gnashing his sharp teeth and circling her slowly. "You don't belong up here. Get out!"

She had ran, heart pounding violently in her chest and stomach roiling. Remus had slammed the attic door shut and howled for nearly twenty minutes. The sound of crashing and thumping lasted well into an hour and she huddled, petrified, in a chair in the living room.

Hermione and Harry found her there when they popped in for a visit nearly four hours later. Silence reigned upstairs and still Tonks sat with her hands clamped bloodlessly on the arms of the chair.

Harry had gone immediately to the attic, without a question, under the confused gaze of the women. Hermione had made her tea and they sipped in silence as more bangs, thumps and muted yelling came from the attic.

Harry had returned shortly after, looking a little red faced but calm. Behind him, Remus came stumbling down them with a puffy, tear-streaked face. The werewolf fell at Tonks' feet and sobbed into her legs brokenly, begging for forgiveness.

Awed and scared now for Remus, Tonks pet his hair and shushed him. She had never dared set foot in the room again.

.oOo.

_**I'm sober now for three whole months, it's one accomplishment that you helped me with.**_

_**The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing that I won't touch again.**_

**_In my sick way I want to thank you for holding my head up late at night._**

_**While I was busy waging wars on myself you were there to stop the fight.**_

_**You never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicidal hate.**_

**_You made me compliment myself when it was way too hard to take._**

_**So I'll drive so fucking far away that I'll never cross your mind.**_

_**And do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind.**_

_**Hate me today.**_

_**Hate me tomorrow.**_

_**Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you.**_

_**Hate me in ways, yeah ways hard to swallow.**_

_**Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you**._

_.oOo._

The sherry bottle ran empty at some point between two and two thirty in the morning. Tonks rolled her head along the back of the chair and blinked muzzy eyes up at the ceiling. Water stains made hypnotic patterns on the grey tile. The attic was up there, above the bedrooms and half bath.

Sometimes, like tonight with Remus sure and solidly out of the way, she tried to muster up the courage to go up there and see what had been so private. There had to have been something there worth growling about, right?

No… she shook her head and sat upright, staring up at Sirius Black's photo. "He's just used to be alone, that has to be it. He's just trying to keep a space just for him. Right?"

Sirius had no answers, only smiled a little and blinked.

That could be, she thought. Remus had led a very solitary life until she situated herself into it. He had been rather adamant against it for some time. She assumed it was his solitary nature, or his own fear of what he was. But she was able to look past it, and had won out after Albus Dumbledore's death. Remus had been so broken then, with Albus dead and Severus a traitor.

Severus Snape was a whole different story. Remus had been vehement about what was said of the man in his presence. He would snap and scowl, and storm from the room. Tonks always found him in the attic hours later.

He had even yelled at Harry once, though it had only been once.

Poor young Potter was struggling to bring a semblance of understanding to himself in the midst of an impending war. It might have been young Weasley to mention Snape first, but Harry had been speaking when Remus entered the room.

It had taken only a moment with the words, 'murderer', and 'greasy bastard' to fall from Harry's lips before Remus had gone red in the face and exploded. By the time Minerva McGonegall had run in, Remus had Harry by the shirt collar and was shaking him while screaming in a blind rage.

The Gryffindor head of house and new Headmistress of Hogwart's had stunned him unconscious and demanded that both boys leave the room and not speak a word about what had happened to anyone.

Harry wouldn't speak to Remus for six straight months until something had happened.

Tonks still wasn't sure what had happened. One day Harry was shooting hurt and angry looks at Remus across the table at Grimmauld Place; and the next he and Remus sat next to each other, whispering and confiding as though nothing had ever happened.

Her vision cleared a moment on Sirius' photo and she frowned. "That was the day Severus returned to Grimmauld…" Sirius didn't say a word.

The whole house had erupted and Severus was nearly killed twice before Harry and Remus had calmed the room enough to speak. The potions master stood at the far corner of the room, wand clenched in his fist and arm shaking as he thrust it out toward the rest of them. Nearly everyone had theirs trained on him as well. The only thing that seemed to stop everything from falling to shit at once was Harry standing between the divided room with his hands outstretched and Remus blocking Severus with his own body, snarling and spittle trailing his chin.

No one had truly believed Harry about Snape's aid. The murderer of Albus Dumbledore was an enemy no matter what he had done since to help the side of good. Of course, the angry hisses and vehement curses died down considerably when the man lost his life saving Harry Potter from Voldemort.

At first, the whole war came to a screeching halt. The side of good froze in horror and disbelief. The Death Eaters stood in shocked silence, half spoken curses hanging from their lips as they watched Severus fall to his knees, blood puddling on the ground as it spilled from his mouth. The damned man had even had the gall to smile—a true, content smile—at the caustic look Lord Voldemort had given him with the last bit of life he had.

In that moment, Harry remembered himself and screamed the curse that would end Voldemort's reign. He hadn't even waited to see if it had worked and fallen to the ground to shake Severus by the shoulders.

And then something had happened that Tonks hadn't fully understood.

Harry stood and turned, tears in his eyes and glasses broken on his nose. He fell into Remus' arms and sobbed, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" over and over until he fell unconscious against the wolf's chest.

Remus refused to let anyone touch either Harry or Severus for some time. He clung to the 'Man that Would Continue to Live' and pet his unruly black hair while he stared dumbfounded at Snape's crumpled body.

Eventually, Harry had gone to Poppy's care and Severus' body had been taken with shame-faced auror's. Remus had returned to Grimmauld Place and did not eat for days until Harry stumbled in, looking tired but well and truly alive.

Tonks rubbed her eyes as the memories, with the aid of alcohol, brought tears and old pain back to the surface. As bad as the time had been, the only thing that stuck in her head was the fact that she could not get Remus to eat for the days he sat as stone, no matter how much she had begged and pleaded. It had been Harry Potter to sit and hold Remus' hand with long minutes of private whispering. Once Potter had finished what he had come to say, the wolf's shoulders dropped and he stood, retrieving them both a bowl of Molly Weasley's soup and they both ate.

Harry Potter, a young man of 17 years, had been able to do for him in hours what she could not in days. For some reason, that hurt the most.

.oOo.

**_And with a sad heart I say 'Bye.' to you and wave._**

_**Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I have made.**_

_**And like a baby boy, I never was a man.**_

_**Until I saw your blue eyes crying and I held your face in my hands;**_

_**and then I fell down yelling, 'Make it go away!**_

**_Just make her smile come back and shine just like it used to be.'_**

_**And then she whispered 'How can you do this to me?'**_

_**Hate me today.**_

_**Hate me tomorrow.**_

_**Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you.**_

_**Hate me in ways, yeah ways hard to swallow.**_

**_Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you._**

.oOo.

The fire had died down and Tonks realized just how late it had gotten. She returned her glass to the sink and dropped the bottle into the trash. Before she passed through the kitchen she pressed her ear to the door and listened. Remus wasn't moving, perhaps asleep.

With a small, sad smile, she made her way up the stairs. She stopped in front of their bedroom and stared at the slim stairwell that led up to the attic. She hadn't been up since that awful day…

Nymphadora wringed her hands and bit her lip. There was something she was missing. Something big and staring her in the face like a large elephant in the sitting room. No one talked about it, but it was as though everyone knew it was there but her. Whatever it was, she was overlooking it…

"I'm going to live to regret this," She whispered as she stepped up onto the first stair. Slowly, her traitorous feet brought her to the door. At first, her heart sped, it had to be locked, surely. Then she could return to bed, curiosity sated and not worry. The knob turned freely under her hand and she didn't even need to push for it to swing open.

"Damn."

Paranoia swept her spine and she checked over her shoulder twice before stepping up into the space. It was still musty and dusty as it had been. With one eyebrow raised, she laughed a bit as she realized that absolutely nothing looked to be touched. Everything was exactly as it had been.

She had to duck at some spots to keep from knocking her head.

The small desk was the only thing that appeared to have some regular use. The surface was void of dust and webbing. She peeked upside down at the parchment that lay on the surface. It looked like an old letter, but the parchment was thin and the ink faded badly.

"Probably something from Sirius," She smiled and went around the desk, bending over the paper and squinting in the dim light and at the compact writing. '_It has been six days since my last correspondence, some items have changed…_' Tonks frowned and skimmed the next few lines. It was a vaguely referenced plan from the war, probably done so in case it was intercepted. Why Remus would keep old war letters was beyond her, but they probably held some form of sentimental value.

At the bottom of the page the writing slant changed, the writing quicker, as though it were added as an afterthought. '_Have you managed to forget me yet?_'

That in itself was curious, but below it in Remus' writing was a neatly scripted, 'NEVER.'

Her heart skipped a beat and she coughed to start breathing again.

She backpedaled away from the desk, nearly knocking over a stack of books. She went to the door, staring down the steps and closed her eyes. She knew she shouldn't have come up… she knew she'd get hurt if she started poking about… she knew it… she knew it…

With a careful turn she scanned the room again, not wanting more clues, but needing to know who… She didn't want to know, but she needed to. It would explain so much…

A crooked hutch sat at the opposite of the desk, in the darkness of shadows where the light of the window did not reach. Tonks set her hands on the latch and tugged it open. Immediately the smell of wood smoke and freshly turned earth wafted out at her. She stuck her hand out and felt it pass through a thin layer of magic, a charm to keep whatever was inside fresh as new. She took her hand back, not wanting to taint the carefully kept item, but she couldn't see inside.

She untucked her wand and muttered a soft, lumos, and nodded her head sadly. It suddenly struck her like a brick to the forehead. A set of pressed Slytherin House robes hung neatly arranged. On the floor of the hutch was a set of books, all bound in old leather with the Slytherin crest embossed on the covers. Snape's old work journals.

It added up so quickly her head spun with the enormity of what she had ignored for so long. No wonder Remus had been so broken…

_NEVER._

She shut the hutch tightly, making sure his charm was still there, and closed the attic door tightly behind her.

She fell into a vague sense of sleep, hugging Remus' pillow and feeling her heart puddle out.

---

In the morning, Nymphadora was awake and showered before the sun was completely up. She attempted a perky hairstyle and a smile as she made her way to the basement to let Remus out.

She grabbed a robe from the bathroom on the way and slung it across her arm.

She unlocked the basement door and set the coffee brewing with her wand. She took up his clothes on the way down, piling them on the floor by the washbin. Remus was half asleep, laying curled and watching her with hazy eyes.

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly, unlocking the heavy bars and shaking open his robe.

Remus stood with a groan and shrugged on his robe, needing to lean against the door for a moment before stepping out into the basement. "Sore," he croaked. "And tired."

"I imagine," She tsked, setting his house shoes on the floor at his feet, helping him keep steady as he toed them on. "I've got coffee going, would you like some breakfast?"

"Maybe later," He whispered, trying not to grunt with each stair up to the kitchen.

"Alright," She nodded, helping him through the door. She pushed it shut and watched him waver as he rounded the corner to the living room. He may collapse in a chair there if he felt too exhausted.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and sipped half-heatedly at it before setting it in the sink. She walked into the living room, smiling sadly at Remus. He was sprawled onto the couch, robe half open and sleeping heavily.

A blanket came from the linen closet. Tonks shook it open and draped him with it, tucking him in a bit and touching his stubbled cheek. "I'm going out for a bit, love. I'll be back soon."

Remus grunted, rolling into the crease of the couch and resettled.

She kissed his forehead and left before she lost her nerve.

Hogwart's ruins were no longer on view to the normal public. The school was attempting to piece itself back together. Therefore, there weren't many people to see her make her way to the gaping hole that had been the Slytherin section of land.

The actual common room and dormitories were not under the castle itself. The labyrinth that was the dungeons was just that, and it stretched beyond the castle to the east as a dug out chunk of earth.

She stood at the edge of the crater, staring down into the Snape's old rooms. Like Harry had mentioned, they had spent much time cleaning away the rubble and debris. It was now nearly like peering into a large doll house. She could see what had once been his fireplace and across from it the large, built in bookshelves that had held up quite nicely.

She found the ladder that led down into it and descended. Open as they were, they did not hold the same eerie darkness and oppressive cold. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, if anything. Snape had been too careful, too sneaky to keep anything that would have been telling about the relationship he had with Remus. But perhaps there was something here, something that would give Remus happiness.

"Hey, Tonks!"

She spun and smiled up at the descending form of Harry Potter. The young man gave her a brief hug and cocked his head to the side, a trait he had picked up that told Nymphadora that he was about to ask some uncomfortable questions.

"What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," She blurted, laughing a little and avoiding Harry's penetrating gaze.

The man touched her arm and waited until she looked at him. "He's told you, hasn't he?"

"No," She breathed. "I think I figured it out."

"Think you did? So you don't know?" He smiled sadly at her, trying to take some sting out of her realization. "Why are you really here?"

"I want…" She paused, eyes searching, "I want something to make him happy."

Harry frowned. "You make him happy."

"I know," She waved her hand as though it were no big deal. "But if you find something, I dunno, personal of Snape's… would you give it to him. "

"Sure," Harry nodded absently as he watched her start to climb out of the hole.

Tonks was scaring herself, speaking about Remus' love for Severus. God how could she have been so stupid not to see? And she had chased Remus, pestered him until he took her. A sudden thought struck her and she looked down at Harry who was still staring up at her. "Harry, is Severus… is he on the monument?"

Harry nodded.

"Okay, thanks," She waved and turned to leave but Harry called to her from the pit.

"Don't go," He warned her, face set. "Go home and see Remus. Forget about it for awhile. You have enough to deal with right now."

"I'll keep that in mind," she smiled at him, it was fake and tight on her face. She walked away before he could say anything else and apparated to Flourish and Botts.

Harry's warning echoed loudly in her head, but she had learned a lot over the past few hours that told her an enormity of the lie that was her love with Remus. But that wasn't entirely true. She loved him, but he had never once told her he loved her. He was too honest to say otherwise.

The great Monument stood before her, large and ominous suddenly. She walked to it, stopping where Remus always did and touching the names that sat before her eyes. Neville Longbottom and Blaise Zambini. Then she squatted and ran her fingers across Sirius Black's name. Then she searched the bottom, hands trembling and laid her fingertips on the etched name of Severus Snape, right were she thought it would be. Shaking, she took her wand from her pocket and touched the tip to the stone. A smooth, calming voice spoke softly to her:

"Severus Snape, potions master and professor of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, killed by the hands of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named to save the life of Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived. He died at the age of forty-two, buried with the rights of Merlin First Class. He was predeceased by all family, and leaves behind his bonded, Remus J. Lupin."

The world spun and Tonks sat hard on the ground, clutching her head and sobbing into her palms.

---

Remus was stirring on the couch that evening when Tonks was just finishing supper.

"Are you hungry?" She asked, stirring a pot and wiping at her face with the towel.

"A bit," he smiled at her, peeking into pots and pressed a dry kiss to her cheek as he passed to set the table. He stopped when he turned, seeing her eyes wet with tears. The glasses were left on the counter as he hugged her. "Are you alright? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," She whispered, "just a bit of onion."

"Right," Remus said slowly, letting her be and wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "Sure?"

"Of course!" She smiled at him, swatting him with the towel and sent him off for the dishes. She watched him carefully set the table, his hands still shaking from the effects of the change, and frowned deeply.

She brought the pot over to the table, careful to set it on the hotplate and served them. "I love you," she told him quietly with a small smile.

Remus nodded and took up his fork. "This smells delicious." He ate in small bites, staring at the tabletop.

Tonks began to eat with no real appetite. Bits of the letter from the attic stuck in her head.

…

"_Have you managed to forget me yet?" _

'_NEVER.'_

.oOo.

_**...For you...**_

_**...For you...**_


End file.
